The training arena wasn't what Arjun expected. No temples. No chanting monks. Not even a single mystic flame in a brass pot. Just a plain concrete courtyard with faded lines painted across its length and ten teenagers stretching half-heartedly in silence.
Maya and Dharan walked him to the edge, then stepped back without a word. Their job here was observation. The training, however, would be handled by someone else.
The gate at the far end creaked open. A tall woman in a black sleeveless kurta strode in, a long wooden staff slung across her back. Her presence shut down the murmurs instantly.
She stopped in front of them, eyes scanning the group with the calm intensity of a storm on pause.
"I'm Instructor Ranya. You'll address me as 'Instructor' or not at all. I'm not your friend, guru, or therapist. I'm here to burn away your weakness until something resembling discipline remains. Any questions?"
Nobody moved. A boy near the back swallowed audibly.
"Good."
Her gaze slid to Arjun, the newcomer. She didn't smile.
"You're the one who self-awakened."
"That's me," Arjun replied, casually. "Though I was unconscious for most of it. Not exactly a method I'd recommend."
The other trainees didn't look impressed.
Ranya simply nodded. "You'll either catch up or collapse. Let's begin."
"Ten laps around the courtyard," she barked.
Everyone started running. Two girls at the front kept pace effortlessly. The rest followed in clumped silence. Arjun kept up until the sixth lap, but his energy began to fade fast. His muscles screamed, lungs burned, and legs threatened betrayal.
By the time the others finished, Arjun was still dragging himself through his ninth lap, sweat pouring, his breath ragged. It wasn't that he was weak—just that these kids were clearly better trained, better conditioned. Veterans, compared to him.
But somehow, with sheer grit and burning lungs, he pushed through the tenth lap and stumbled back to the group.
As he sat down, ready to collapse—
"Hundred push-ups," Ranya commanded, her voice like a whip crack.
Arjun opened his mouth to plead for a moment's rest, but one look at her blazing brown eyes killed the thought before it formed.
He dropped to the ground and started. By the seventieth push-up, his arms trembled like reeds. At ninety, he was soaked in sweat. By a hundred, he was half-dead, arms shaking, breath ragged.
"I don't think I can stand right now," he muttered, face pressed against the stone.
Snickers and whispers rippled nearby.
"Tch. How is he this weak?"
"He awakened without training? Unbelievable."
"Shakti's wasted on him."
Next came meditation—silent, searing, and under the noon sun. Arjun fought the urge to fidget, to shade his eyes, to scream.
Ranya circled like a predator. "Some of you think this is pointless. You're wrong. Meditation keeps your Shakti stable. And without a stable mind and body, you're just a hazard with pretty sparks."
By the third round of combat stances, Arjun's arms felt like jelly and his thighs like stone. But as he watched the others, he began to memorize them—movements, rhythm, who was sloppy, who was precise.
Ten trainees. Eight visibly hostile. Two… maybe human.
During a short water break, a wiry boy with kind eyes and a lazy grin passed him a bottle.
"Name's Dev," he said. "Ignore the others. They're just rattled you didn't have to puke your guts out for three weeks to awaken."
"Arjun," he replied, accepting the water. "Thanks. Though honestly, puking sounds like a slower death."
Dev laughed. "Don't worry. You'll get your turn."
Sitting beside him was a quiet girl with a serene expression. She didn't speak, just gave Arjun a small nod.
"That's Meera," Dev added. "She's not much of a talker, but sharp. Awakened her Shakti in sixteen days—fastest in the batch. Well, until you happened."
Arjun winced. "Let me guess. Now she wants to strangle me in my sleep?"
Dev grinned. "Nah. She's cool. She'd warn you first. She, on the other hand…"
He nodded toward a tall girl standing across the yard, arms crossed, eyes locked on Arjun like a sniper scope.
"Aarini," Dev said. "She was the record holder. Strongest too. Then you showed up and shattered her streak."
Arjun sighed. "Of course I did. Because when has anything in my life ever been peaceful?"
Training resumed. Sparring rounds.
Arjun was paired with Aarini.
"Begin," Ranya said.
Aarini attacked with brutal efficiency. Her first strike—a high kick—barely missed Arjun's head. He dodged, barely. Her follow-up punches were precise, calculated, and merciless.
"You think you're special because you bled in a clinic?" she hissed between attacks.
"No," Arjun grunted, ducking under a jab. "But I'm starting to think you think I am."
She swept his legs. He crashed to the ground, wind knocked out of him.
"You don't deserve that power. Some of us worked for it."
Flat on his back, Arjun stared at the sky. "Right. I'll be sure to schedule my trauma more responsibly next time."
"Enough!" Ranya barked. "Switch partners."
Aarini walked off, fury radiating from every step. Arjun didn't bother watching her go. He just lay there for a second, catching his breath.
The rest of the day blurred—more drills, more pain, more silence. Arjun was the outsider. The mystery. The cheat. And now, the target.
As the sun dipped below the skyline, the trainees sat against the wall, gulping water and wiping sweat. Maya and Dharan had remained the entire time, quietly observing from the shade.
Dharan finally approached Ranya.
"How was he?"
Ranya crossed her arms. "Raw. But adaptable. Unrefined, but he doesn't break. The others will test him more than I ever could."
Maya looked toward Arjun, who now sat slumped against the wall beside Dev and Meera. "That may be what he needs."
Arjun, meanwhile, stared across the courtyard, mind still reeling.
Ten trainees. Eight resentful. Two tolerable. One who might strangle me in my sleep. And a teacher who clearly enjoys my suffering.
"Dev," he muttered. "What are the odds I survive this week?"
Dev took a thoughtful sip of his drink. "Fifty-fifty, maybe."
"Optimist."
Meera, still staring straight ahead, added quietly, "That's only if Aarini doesn't get assigned your roommate."
Arjun blinked. "Cool. I'll sleep with a stick under my pillow."
They chuckled softly—the only laughter in the tense air.
And so began Arjun's first day of training.
Surrounded by rivals. Watched by guardians. Led by someone who might actually enjoy breaking him.
But as he looked up at the stars appearing above the courtyard, one thought floated through the pain and sweat:
At least this pain makes sense.